What's Wrong With a Little Romance?
by darthsydious
Summary: Prompt-fill for mizjoely for my tumblr 250 follower fic giveaway! Victorian!lock Sherlolly & Warstan, something sentimental and romantic that has Sherlock rolling his eyes but secretly loving it!


"Before we all depart," Watson said as the women began to gather their gloves and handbags from the table. Watson stood, glancing at the three remaining at the table. The women seemed rapt, one curious, the other knowing a surprise was in store for her, but not what exactly. "I have a gift," he said, and turned to Mary, reaching into his breast pocket. Both women gasped, Sherlock rolled his eyes, glancing at his pocket watch. John Watson ignored his best friend, having eyes only for his wife. "Happy anniversary, my darling wife of five years," Watson kissed Mary on the cheek, presenting her with an oblong jewelry box. The waiter, seeing his signal brought out a bottle of private reserve champagne (probably Mycroft called in for the favor) and Mary blushed red. Sherlock and Molly both applauded the latter beaming at the happy couple.

"What is it, Mary?" Molly asked, leaning forward. Mary Watson carefully opened the red leather box and gave a delighted gasp.

"Oh, my," she murmured, tears in her eyes.

"There's three jewels in the setting," Watson explained, removing the necklace from the box and standing to place it around his wife's slender neck. The rope of pearls shone in the lamplight and Mary traced the beads and three stones with her fingertips, touched by her husband's extravagance. "One for you and two for the children,"

"Oh that's beautiful," Molly sighed. Mary leaned over, quite uncaring that they were all in a public place, and kissed her husband, pleased.

"Well Holmes," John sat back, chuffed his gift had gone over so well. "Sorry you had to sit through that ' romantic claptrap' as you say, but you know it comes with anniversaries."

"What's wrong with romance?" Molly asked, and Sherlock shrugged in response.

"It distracts him from his work," Mary said. "He's absolutely against it," she winked over her glass at Molly, grinning teasingly. Sherlock looked annoyed.

"I am not against it," Sherlock shrugged, he removed the bottle of champagne from the ice, pouring Molly a glass and then himself. "I simply don't make time for it, for the good of London."

"How noble of you," Mary replied, mock-serious, though there was a twinkle in her eyes.

"Well at any rate this was beautiful," Molly said, she reached for her glass, holding it to the Watson's. "To your happiness." Sherlock grabbed his glass as well, nodding to them both.

"May you continue putting up with each other as you've done in the past," he added and Mary snorted, John merely shaking his head.

"Coming from you that's quite touching," Watson chortled. "But if you're through," he glanced over their heads, nodding to someone. Mary followed his gaze, surprised to see the restaurant host speaking to the conductor of the orchestra. In a moment, a familiar song began to play and Mary's eyes softened as she turned to her husband, smiling.  
"You remembered."

"Of course I did," he set his napkin aside and stood, opening his hands to her. "May I have the pleasure, Mrs. Watson?" Flushing pink, she took her gloves, fumbling into them as Watson held her chair and helped her to her feet. They only had eyes for each other, and Molly watched with no small amount of fondness and pleasure for the happy couple. She glanced at her tablemate, who was also watching their friends move around the dance floor with the rest of the crowd. She knew too well of his disregard for romance and the every-day sentiment that clouded judgment. She also knew he loved the Watson's fiercely and had and would do anything in his power to keep his dearest friends safe.

"He's a terrible romantic," Molly said after a while.

"John Watson is a sentimental fool," Sherlock nodded.

"Sometimes it's not such a bad thing, is it Mr. Holmes? Being romantic I mean." He turned to face her, picking up his glass. Over the rim of his glass, his eyes twinkled at her with some unknown mischief. Unable to decipher his meaning, she turned her attention back to the dance floor, admiring the whirling couples and gay music. Suddenly, she realized that Sherlock was standing beside her. Slowly, she turned in her chair to face him.

"May I have the honor, Miss Hooper?"

He moved them easily among the couples, the floor was crowded, so they were obliged to stand closer than usual.

"I never said it was a bad thing," Sherlock said in her ear after a while.

"What?" she asked, meeting his gaze.

"Romance." Before she could answer, the dance had ended and she could see John and Mary leaving the floor, looking for them. Amidst the crush of people, Sherlock bent, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. "May I see you home, Miss Hooper?" Well aware of the Watson's eyes on them, and probably on her flushed face, Molly nodded.

"You may."


End file.
